The Best I Can Be
by beaute-ephemere
Summary: Things were never destined to be easy, but was it meant to be this hard? / Written for Round 1 of the Houses Competition Year 2


_House: Slytherin_

 _Prompt : "I'll make better mistakes tomorrow"_

 _Category : Short_

 _Word Count : 822_

.oOo.

 **July 14th, 2003**

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Draco Lucius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

 **February 21st, 2005**

Hermione stared out the window, rubbing her stomach absentmindedly as she listened to the soft rain coming from outside. It had been almost two years since she'd gotten married, and things hadn't been easy. She looked around the room and frowned, her hormones instantly going into overdrive at the sight of their bedroom. Draco's messiness had always clashed horribly with her maniacal cleanliness, and more than one argument had blossomed from his inability to clean up after himself. At times, she wondered if he didn't do it just to annoy her. He'd promise that he'd make an effort, but he'd end up breaking his promises as fast as he made them.

"Draco! Can you stop leaving your wet towels on the floor!"

"It's only towels! Why do you constantly make such a big deal of it?"

"I wouldn't have to make a big deal of it if you didn't do it all the time!"

"I just don't see why it's such a problem! It's _my_ towel, can't I do what I want with it?"

"All the towels in this house belong to _us_ , and leaving them wet and lying around on the floor simply ruins them."

"You're a _witch_! Just _Scourgify_ them or something."

"You _know_ that just destroys them! _Scourgify_ is –"

"–'a household spell for hard surfaces, and as such damages soft textiles like sheets and towels'. Trust me, I know! I've heard the same thing every day for two years!"

"You wouldn't hear it everyday if you just–"

"If I just put my towels away? Yeah, I _know!_ "

"Why does everything has to be so difficult with you! I just –why, Draco? Why can't you just do what I want for once in your life?"

"That's rich! We always do what you want! Who always chooses the restaurant we go to? You do! Who always invites her insufferable friends over? That's right –you! Who always –"

"I get it! I –" The words caught in her throat, tears welling up in her eyes. Struggling to keep herself together, she sunk onto the bed, burying her head in her hands.

Draco didn't seem to notice, and began pacing the room. "You know, you should really – "

"Draco – I can't keep doing this," Hermione whispered. "We argue about everything. I - I can't take it."

"What do you want to do, ask your little Gryffindor friends for relationship advice? Because I have a few issues with – "

"No, Draco. I want a divorce," she said, tears beginning to stream down her face.

"You want to give up? That's not very _Gryffindor_ of you, is it?"

"Draco, I'm serious!"

"You're pregnant, Hermione! You won't leave. You can't!"

"We can stay friends, we can work something out, but I just can't keep –"

"Wait, no...… Hermione, I don't want us to be _friends_ ," Draco cried, suddenly grasping the gravity of the situation. "Just give me another chance. We can get through this. For better, for worse, until death do us part, remember?"

"I don't think I can, Draco."

"Hermione, _we_ can work through this. I love you. I know I make mistakes, and I always will, but if you give me a chance, I'll make better mistakes tomorrow. Everyday, I'll be a little bit better, and maybe, one day, I'll come close to being good enough for you. You're the closest thing to perfection I'll ever have a shot at, so please, please, stay," Draco said, his eyes glistening with tears.

"I love you, too, but – "

"Why does there have to be a but? We love each other, isn't that enough?"

"I don't know anymore."

"Come on, love. You're Hermione Granger, you know everything, don't you?" Draco said, meekly (and unsuccessfully) attempting to lighten the mood.

"I - no, Draco. I'm so sorry," she whispered. Before Draco could process what was happening, she had Disapparated, and he was left terribly alone. He waited for what seemed like hours for her to come back, and as he began to lose hope, he heard a knock on his door. He opened it to reveal a soaking wet Ginny Weasley. Before he could ask so much as a question, she had grabbed his wrist and whisked him back to her cottage.

"She's in there," Ginny muttered, gesturing towards a door at the end of the hall.

Tentatively, hardly daring to believe his luck, Draco made his way to the aforementioned door, gingerly pushing it open.

His wife sat on the bed and looked up at him with tearful eyes. "I –"

Rushing to her side and wrapping his arms around her, Draco held her tightly. "I know, love. It's going to be okay."


End file.
